


Night

by StAnni



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 22:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16962579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StAnni/pseuds/StAnni
Summary: She chuckles and as he steps closer he can see the little red heart she is tracing to the window pane in stick-slick blood.  “Love.” She hums to herself and he doesn’t move, waiting for her to respond.





	Night

When he opens the door to his apartment he knows she is there, in the dark, waiting for him. He discreetly keeps his hand on his side, near his gun and he speaks into the black apartment. “How did you get in?”

She is closer than he thought, and to his left – the proximity of her voice almost startles him. “It’s not hard.”

He turns on the light and looks at her, a mere few feet away, her black suit slick with something, blood. “Are you hurt?” he immediately asks in concern and she gives a short laugh, clear, like a bell – deceptively innocent “No. This?” she glances at the blood on her chest, her thigh – “it’s not mine.”

She moves closer and he takes a step back – to her quiet amusement. “Selina, you are not yourself…” he tries and she smiles, shaking her head but not taking a further step towards him “You have got some serious control issues, Bruce. I mean…I knew that from the get go, but it has gotten to a level that is not cute anymore.”

His hand closes on the gun and her eyes registers it – but remains quiet, an even green sea. 

He has tried to reason with her. Over and over. Anyone else would give up, would not see the reason in it at this point – but he will throw himself bloody against this wall if there was any chance at all, be it every so miniscule, that he could get through to her. “You can’t be happy like this. How many people have you killed?”

She regards him without answer and then glances away, tellingly towards the door that leads to the second bedroom, his makeshift study, before she answers, almost bored “I didn’t really come here to chat.”

She came for the list. He is surprised she didn’t just break into the room herself to get it. Maybe he arrived before she had a chance to. 

There is a fresh cut below her jawline and he stares at it, drawing her attention and she raises her eyebrows, breaking his stare. “So are we going to get to it? Or what? I’m assuming you have it in there.”

Bruce pulls the gun out and holds it on her – his movement sure and his stance defensive. She doesn’t even blink. “You’re not getting the list.” He says and she nods, like she expected it. Catching him off guard she simply saunters away, to the living room, where she goes to stand at the glass window – looking out at the ruined city below. “Are you happy?” she asks, not looking at him.

He has lowered his gun, but holds it firmly in his hand – keeping his distance. “Of course not.” he answers – why lie? “Gotham is worse than it was before. You’re out there…” 

She looks at him and her gaze is calm. Hope rises like the old flame in his heart again – it is painful and spirited at once. He takes a step towards her. “You can come back, Selina.” He says, his voice softer. “I’m waiting for you to come back.”

He has never lied to her, not about anything, big or small, hurtful or not. Not since he kept her mother’s arrival a secret from her years ago. Since then he has been honest, to a fault. She turns against the window and leans back, her curls spreading slightly behind her, her eyes never leaving his. “Why?” she asks, plainly and he takes another step – it is a time for truth “Because I love you. I still love you.”

She is quiet for a moment, before she sighs, her eyes dipping to the floor and then to the side – away from him. She seems to consider what he has to say, but without much emotion – like she is weighing his words. 

“What happens when I come back?” she asks, without inflection – simply a request for more information.

Again, there is no use lying. “Gordon will arrest you. I’ll hire you the best lawyer…”

And she laughs – that trickle of a bell again. She turns around towards the city in the glass and puts her gloves, sticky with half-dried blood, against the pane. “The best lawyer, huh? You must really love me a lot.” Her words are thick with resentment and he steels against it. “You know I do.” 

She chuckles and as he steps closer he can see the little red heart she is tracing to the window pane in stick-slick blood. “Love.” She hums to herself and he doesn’t move, waiting for her to respond.

From where he stands he can see a stray leaf in her hair. She must be holing up at the outskirts of the city. Her boots are smeared with mud. Somewhere near the swamp, then. He’ll ask Gordon to rake the city limits for her hideout later after she leaves.

“If the roles were reversed, I’d run away with you. That’s love.” She says, quietly and he answers, resolute “If the roles were reversed, I’d never ask you to.”

She smirks but doesn’t turn around. 

The moment of silence that follows after feels heavy against his heart, but is broken by a crack, a splintering of glass and Selina giving him one last look over her shoulder before she disappears, leaping and swinging from a strategically placed zip line, and crashing elegantly into the window of the study on the other side of the wall.

Bruce has mere seconds to react and as he whips open the study door she has already leapt out of the window again, list crumpled into her jacket, and quickly snaking up the line she must have placed before coming down to his apartment.

Before she slips over the railing at the roof she glances back down at him – staring up at her from the shattered, exposed and airwhipped lounge – and blows a kiss.


End file.
